


Now and Always

by Leni



Series: Conversation Starters [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Reality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7943989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle/Rumpelstiltskin. Set in <a href="http://leni-ba.tumblr.com/post/148190144703/the-long-haul-masterlist">The Long Haul 'verse</a>.</p><p>Prompt: "It was always you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now and Always

**Author's Note:**

> 009\. ❝it was always you.❞

Rumpelstiltskin's bedroom in this world wasn't very different from the room she'd swept and dusted countless times in the Enchanted Forest. Most of the furniture was the same, down to the bed large enough to accommodate four (and certainly the two of them, with no need to cling as close to each other... yet cling they did).

It was also as dark as the Dark Castle had been when she'd first arrived.

Out of habit, she raised a hand to create the small witchlight that had served her so well in the last year before Regina cast the curse. But nothing came up. Her brow furrowed when a second attempt had the same result.

"It's different here," Rumpelstiltskin said, extending his own palm and grimacing at the unsteady burst of light that flickered in and out, giving her a glimpse of his worried mien before it cast them back into darkness.

Belle snuggled closer to him, reaching for his wrist in a silent bid to stop. "But you will be okay?"

She didn't want to think of a world where everyone everyone knew who the Dark One was, and he had no reliable magic to defend himself.

"Of course, sweetheart," he told her. Then chuckled darkly. "At least _I_ can still access it."

He never talked about her in that sneering tone, so Belle knew his mind has jumped to Regina's predicament. She let out a sigh, unsure how she must feel. On one hand, she was relieved that the Evil Queen had been put back behind bars where she couldn't harm anyone else. On the other hand, Regina had been Belle French's friend for more than two decades, and those memories hadn't vanished along with the personality who'd made them.

But Regina had made her own bed.

Now Belle intended to enjoy hers.

 _Theirs_.

Rumpelstiltskin better understood that she had no intention of keeping separate beds anymore. As Belle French, she had understood that her boyfriend was uncomfortable with becoming intimate after such a short relationship. With her memories returned, Belle had not doubted to ask Rumpelstiltskin where the bedroom was, and had directed him under the covers and joined him before he could protest.

They hadn't done much more than kiss, but after the excitement of the day, building on their connection was enough. They had the future to discover the rest.

"I'm glad you stayed," she told him, running a finger down the crease that appeared on his forehead, "even if you're not."

He looked away. "Belle...."

"I know." Baelfire was his priority, and soon he would find a way to break through the barrier that separated Storybrooke from the outside world. If he could have left today, as planned, she would have accepted his departure with her best appearance of cheer. But he'd been forced to return home instead, and she wouldn't pretend to be sorry. "The option is that you'd barreled right through the town line," she reasoned, bringing her hands to cradle his cheeks so he would look at her, "and what would Mr. Gold have done except turn around and drive back?"

He nodded, turning his head to brush his lips against her palm. "You're right, of course."

Smiling, Belle leaned forward to kiss him again.

For a man who had come home with his cane wielded like a weapon, snarling about the new curse that the advent of magic had brought to the town line, Rumpelstiltskin now seemed pleasantly relaxed, digging his hand into her hair to hold her head in place.

After a few minutes they stopped, grinning at each other.

"I missed you so much, Belle," he told her, not for the first time that day.

Belle rubbed her cheek into the fingers that stroked it. "I didn't know to miss you, but you were always in my thoughts. In the Dark Castle or my apartment, it was always you, Rumpelstiltskin."

His face lit up at her words, and he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around her. A soft smile appeared on his lips. "Can you be real?" he whispered, and his eyes shone with wonder.

Belle understood the sentiment wholeheartedly. She had woken up to find that Rumpelstiltskin not only returned her feelings, but that he hadn't pushed her away when her cursed self had sought him out.

For all they had spent months together, following the patterns this world called courting, it had nothing to this day when she'd finally remembered that the man she loved was also the man who had taken her away from home and family, the one who had made her cry and laugh and rage, who had offered her freedom, and when she had refused it, he'd given her the world instead.

Gold had been a good man, one who'd known little of darkness and grief, and Belle was glad to have known him. But it had been Rumpelstiltskin who had accepted her advances, and Rumpelstiltskin who had made the last weeks of the curse into something Belle French had been satisfied to call happiness.

Rumpelstiltskin would claim that there was no good in him, but his actions always spoke louder.

"I love you, too," she told him, responding to the words he'd left unsaid, laughing giddily when he held her tighter.

She was content to lie still, her head on his chest and their bodies pressed together. But after a few minutes, he stirred. "Hey, don't fall asleep, dear. There's a room for you," he said, already loosening his hands from around her waist.

Belle rubbed her nose against his shoulder. Hooked a leg over his. Didn't move otherwise. "I know."

 

The End  
02/09/16


End file.
